


Long Road Home

by RobinLakehair



Category: Lab Rats (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11656287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinLakehair/pseuds/RobinLakehair
Summary: He didn't want it to end like this. Or maybe he did. Who was he trying to fool? Chase knew that all of his decisions had led up to this one pivotal moment where everything changed. In his hastiness, he had failed to realize that he was going to play right into their hands. To end one life just to be trapped by another. How would he truly be free? Would he find his way out? Did it even matter anymore? Once a killer... once a psychopath, always?(sex, violence, murder, etc.)





	Long Road Home

           It was the final push that he needed to make his life no more.

            The way his father constantly taunted him.

            He found his hands wrapping around his throat and choking him until he knew his life would be over.

            And it took its sweet time. Chase's hands kept crushing, trying to break the voice box beneath his thumbs. He supposed that there should have been something screaming at him to stop, telling him that these were going to lead to so many innumerable problems but all that he heard was:

**Keep going.**

**Don't stop.**

**You're almost reaching your true potential.**

            Was it whispers of lies?

           Or were these truths?

            His father’s arms were reaching out, his fingers were trying to dig at him, trying to say anything before the last light left his eyes, but there was nothing reaching Chase.

            Except for the sweet final release from being captive all his life.

            He felt the tugging and pulling at his shirt and neck and then finally it broke away.

           It wasn't supposed to be like this.

            His father was not supposed to be lying dead below him.

            But it finally had snapped in him. All of the constant show boating and taking credit for everything that he had done for him. He found that he just couldn't stand being upstaged by this man anymore.

            Chase, as smart as he was, as much intelligence as he had been given, couldn't seem to wrap his head around the simplest of ideas. And as he started to really stare down at the dead body below him, he started to feel the panic well up in his throat and stick there like a golf ball.

            Despite it all, knowing that everything that he had every known was about to change, he knew that he would not have changed what he did.

            There was something almost freeing seeing the body laying beneath him.

            That was what happened when you tried to play creator. Eventually, the subject turns against its creator. It's only nature. His father should have known it was going to happen.

            Chase set his hands down to his sides. Despite his genius, he was having trouble planning on figuring a way out.

            Was there supposed to be a way out of this? He spied the dead body again. Probably not, but that's what you get he thought and he glared back at the body.

            He needed to walk away from this for now.

            Chase did not know if Adam or Bree would find out, and if they did, would he even care?

            No, and he did not need any intelligence to see that. In the years of constant work, constant hiding, all the missions, everything, it had given way to something else: no heart.

            He had, at one point, when he was still a teenager, still trying to find his way through life, he had tried to care. But one by one, he watched as all his hopes and dreams were constantly crushed. Whether it was his father’s fault or just because of how he was a bionic human, he did not know. He didn't care to find out either.

            That was when the shaking starting in his hands and went to the rest of his body. It was the rage that he held inside. Even murder, even this kind of release, it didn't alleviate all the years of pain and time lost.

            He was a man now. At least, he liked to think that he was.

            C.

            Subject C. When it was quiet at night, when he had recharge for the next day, all he could dream about was how he was the last.

            They had said jokingly, “Save the best for last, right?” but there was always something so condescending about that statement that he just couldn't shake.

            So where did he go from here?

            Wait for Beauty and the Beast to find out what he had done?

            He had been spiraling down this path for a while. And they had known.

            In their defense, which despite what he had done, he would always come to their aid, had tried to watch out for him. They had tried to bring him back in but as he distanced himself, his pseudo-siblings, would try to bring him back and it would be merciless fights.

            It had been over ten years since they had debunked their floating academy. They had tried to start building normal lives. They had tried to be productive citizens but they all knew, even his brother and sister wouldn't admit it, there had to be something more for themselves.

            With each of their lives separating apart, with Chase chasing his dreams of building and manufacturing new products, new technology, he had found something that had made him feel the slightest bit human.

            But it never made him feel whole.

            There was always that nagging feeling in the back of his head, where he knew, he knew more than most, of what he was. A genetically modified person. Not a real person. Just a specimen, grown in a petri dish. Someone played creator and made him for a purpose.

            He found that the original purpose is what he had turned out to be.

            A murderous super soldier.

            He glanced back at the body one last time before he closed the door.

           Just the first but definitely not the last.

           

* * *

 

            In his youth, he had been given the cold shoulder from the opposite sex he chased. Now, it was the opposite. In a quick wink, he could have them throwing themselves at him and their panties would hit the floor.

            And here he was again, spying another member of the opposite sex that he felt like might distract him from events early today.

            A pretty little girl. Short brown hair framed her face, hidden beneath her dark rimmed glasses were the biggest brown eyes he had seen in a long time. She looked lost and he would make sure that he was the one that she found.

            She was taller than him, he could see that from here and honestly, at this stage in his life, most people were. Still, he found that his stature kept people from being intimidated. He was always the sweet trusting one. The one that they could always find themselves running to whenever there was a problem.

            Usually, he was the problem only they weren't smart enough to see what he had done.

            The best part of her was her low-cut dress that left very little to the imagination but just enough that he definitely wanted to see if reality was better.

            He would place a bet that it would.

            As smooth as he could be, he slid up to the bar and made his way next to her, accidently bumping against her hip, almost causing her to spill her drink in her hand but just enough not to. The force forced her hand to grab onto his shoulder for balance and he flashed her the most genuine smile he could muster.

            “Oh, I'm sorry, miss, are you alright?” He gently placed his hand on hers on his shoulder to steady her.

            She smiled back at him and then eyed her drink quickly. “It looks like I am. If I had spilled this, I think someone would have owed me another one.”

            Chase felt her reserve drop quickly, almost too easily. “I'd like to buy you another one, if I may.”

            And that was how it started.

            Through the night their conversation remained on point, quiet, almost seducing him.

           It was easy to seduce when you were a psychopath.

           He felt no reserve in his hatred of life itself.

            And when he found himself naked on top of her, he almost found some semblance of peace, pulling at her hair and smelling what was some mix of ginger and oranges that was perpetuating his nostrils and contaminating his brain.

            They were twisted underneath the sheets and he found himself ripping them off and pinning herself under him with one leg. It wasn't a struggle. There was no force, no need. She was willingly letting him take her again and again. He found himself struggling to hold himself together as he slid into her again and again.

            It was almost like he could feel something again. But that was foolishness.

            It was the pure animalistic side of him. The rage that was quelling deep inside of him was being taken out through the pure, unadulterated carnal way he took her and made her his again and again. He loved to watch her again and again, the way she arched her back up against him and pressed her breasts against his hard chest.

            The flesh against flesh contact was just what he needed.

            Still, as he almost went onto auto pilot, he found whatever was left of his soul drifting back to what he had done early.

            The dead look in his father's eyes.

            The blood that had spilled out of his mouth and had dried as Chase had watched him die.

            Those thoughts only made him take the pretty little thing beneath him again and again, over and over until her hands were digging into her back and trying to rip into his skin. She was whispering his name over and over again.

            Finally, he found the sweet spot. And instead of reaching his climax and finding instead relief, he saw blood and death before his eyes.

            He rolled off of her, panting and lay for a moment, saying nothing but starring at the ceiling, trying to remember what just had happened.

            She propped herself up on her shoulder, her hair a mess but the look in her eyes much different than the doe eyes that she had first seen him through. There was a grin plastered on her face, almost a goofiness to it.

            He closed his eyes, ignoring the fact she was looking at him.

            He couldn't ignore the fact that her hands were already touching him again and this time, he turned away. “Don't.” He sat up, his back facing her and started to find his clothes.

            “What's wrong? Was it something I did?”

            He looked back at her. A normal person would say something.

            That's where they differed. He looked back at her, still being able to admire her in all her naked glory, but not being able to care that she had feelings.

            Still, he proceeded to dress and gather his things.

            “Seriously, Chris, what did I do? I thought we were having fun.”

            He could hear the pouting in her voice, the almost childlike sadness she was feeling right now.

            As he finished buttoning his shirt, he turned to her and spoke very slowly.

            “First, my name isn't Chris. I lied. Second, I just wanted to fuck you. Third...” He paused for a moment as he watched her stumble to find any words. “No, there's no third. I lied. You were a good fuck and I knew you would be when I first saw you. Have a nice life.”

            Chase started out the door and was gone before she could speak.

            He should have stayed though.

            He would have heard her mutter, “That's okay, Chase Davenport. So, did I.”

 

* * *

 

            “And that's how it all began.” He leaned back in his chair.

            He was sitting in house. He felt somewhat of a semblance of safe and sanity here. He kept a vocal journal. Maybe just to remind him one day that he was/is human. He was not sure because he never felt like any of it.

            He felt controlled and just like a subject forced to do things against of all of his will.

            And now with the weight off his neck, he felt so free.

            But what was he supposed to do with his freedom? He didn't know.

            Chase didn't know how long this freedom was going to last. How long could he hide the fact that his father was dead, but better yet, how long would it take for them to figure out that he was the one who had done it?

            He was leaning back in his favorite chair. He had poured himself something to drink when he had got home and now he found himself surrounded by the quiet.

            Chase took a drink but even the alcohol wasn't enough to quiet all the thoughts. He leaned back further in his chair, his arms crossed behind his head now and his legs placed up on the footstool.

            Once upon a time, he remembered what it was like to care about someone else. Now, nearing thirty, he found his mind wrapped around all of the memories that he could not get away from.

            Chase rubbed the back of his neck and fell the tell-tale lump of his bionics, he found himself grimacing.

            While he was lost in his thoughts, he felt the tell-tale buzz of his phone in his pocket. He took it out and looked at it.

            It was Leo-- his step brother? Leo had gone off and become a motivational speaker. It was good for him, he had been proud of his brother.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey, Chase, have you been able to get ahold of D?”

            Father. Dead. Yes, sure, he was definitely a D now. Dead, dead, dead. “No, I haven't. Why, is there something wrong?”

  
            There was a long pause and a sigh on the other end. “Yeah, well, we were supposed to have dinner together and he just never showed up. I can't get ahold of him and the house is dark.”

            “I don't know what to tell you, Leo.” Chase was limiting his answers.

            “Chase, I know you and D haven't been on the best of terms, but he still is your father.”  
            Chase started to grind his teeth. “You don't need to go there, Leo. Just leave it alone. Maybe you should call Bree.”

            “I can't,” Leo paused. “She's been so busy with the baby she doesn't really have time for anyone. Adam is too busy with his sports career. There isn't anyone else.”

            There was the part of Chase that should have cared. He wanted to pretend to find it for Leo. He almost felt like he should have. Leo had never been anything but supportive and caring. A normal human interaction. “I'm sorry, Leo, I wish I could help but I have other things I have attend to. I'm sure he's fine, probably just off doing a new painting of himself or buying some expensive toy. He probably just forgot about the dinner.”

            There was another long awkward silence and finally Leo said, “Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'll talk to you later then.”

            “Okay.”

            “Hey, Chase?”

            “Yeah?” Chase was grinding his teeth again. This was almost too much interaction for him.

            “If there is something going on, and you need someone, you know I'm here, right?”

            “Yeah, Leo. I gotta go. Bye.”

            Chase, instead of hanging up the phone, threw it across the room and watch it shatter into a million pieces onto the floor.

            He would fix it later or buy another one. It didn't matter.

            Did any of it matter?”

            Everything Leo had said was true. His brother, Adam, had spent over five years pursuing his sports dream. He was a top line defenseman for one of the top teams in the NHL. There were very few things that Adam did well, but destruction was in the top of then.

            And Bree? Well, she had almost had the Suzy homemaker life. She had the “wonderful” fiancé who had in turn left her pregnant and for another woman. So now, Bree raised little baby Brent all by herself.

            He looked to the left, he saw the picture of his nephew and it was one of the only times he felt what he knew he was supposed to.

            Here he was, sitting in his lavish self, in his mansion, millions of dollars in the bank. He would have everything a normal person would want. And yet, all he wanted was to be able to feel something, feel anything.

           

* * *

 

            Chase woke up in the morning. Still no sense of guilt or remorse had hit him. Good enough for me, I suppose he thought as he went through his usual morning routine. Dressed to perfection, there wasn't a hair out of place on his head. He had a pair of impeccably pressed black pants and a green long-sleeved button down. Black tie and vest. He looked sharp and he knew it.

            There was never a bad time to look good. His impeccable sense of self had made him quite a self-made man. A millionaire at least twenty times over by the time he was twenty had led to many doors open for him.

            And he took so many liberties with all of those.

            Women, maybe he could call them that, threw themselves at him. He had taken advantage of their lack of morals repeatedly.

            It was a one up on Adam. He could never forget the constant mockery.

            Every time another pair of panties hit the floor, he felt that level of validation.

            But all the money, all the easy women, it didn't amount to anything. At the moment, at the time when it was happening, he felt nothing.

            Chase found himself lost in his own thoughts. He had been so lost in himself he could barely remember where he had programmed his car to go, even if he had.

            When the doors finally opened, he found himself by the edge of a cliff.

            There was another car waiting here for him. But there was no one in sight.

            He stepped out and as he did, the other car's door opened and he saw one long leg come out, then then other, leading up to a shapely body in a short blue dress. Crowned in dark burgundy hair, pulled back into a loose bun, big brown eyes were hiding underneath thick rimmed black glasses. Round full pink tinted lips broke into a big smile.

            He tilted his head just a bit and tried to scan the woman in front of him. However, even as he scanned, he could get nothing in return. It was like there was a block or a firewall of some kind.

            “Don't bother, Chase. There's nothing to find because there's no record of me existing, just like you.”

            Chase lowered his hand. “Who are you?”

            “I'm like you, but better in every way possible,” she chuckled as she circled her car and came dangerously close to him. Her hand pressed on his chest. “You do remember last night, don't you handsome?”

            He did. It all did come rushing back in the ways that he didn't want it to. And it had never occurred to him that she was marking him for a target. “Why can't I scan you?”

            She gave him an almost patronizing smile and patted him on his cheek. “For the smartest man in the world, my dear Chase, sometimes the simplest concepts are just out of your reach, aren't they?”

            “I'm Evalyn. I'm another one of Douglas' made children.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t fret, though, he finally realized to stop using his own genes as they came out…” she trailed off as she gestured towards him. “Like you… unruly, at best.”

            Quick thoughts, deciphering. If she was subject E, was there an F?

            “Subject F? That is my brother, Francis. You'll meet him soon enough, I'm sure.” She smiled at him wryly. “Are you getting mad yet, am I going to see that legendary temper?”

            Chase's body stiffened and he made sure to keep his thoughts to a bare minimum. If he couldn't scan her, he had no idea what she was capable of. “What do you want?”

            “Me? I want nothing.” Her arms spanned the sky. “But do you see all of this? We could have everything. All we have to do is eliminate everyone in our way. You already started the trend, we are just going to finish it.”  
            “What's that supposed to mean?” Chase folded his arms, still standing as far away from her as he could. His mind drifted quickly back to the dead body.

            “You killed him. I know you did. We all do. Francis, myself, Douglas.” She paused. “Douglas isn't mad, just so you know. You were built for this. You specifically were supposed to be his crowning glory until Donald took you away from us.”

            “Yet, in all this time, almost fifteen years, nothing has even been mentioned and those two have been on good terms.”

            Evalyn laughed heartily. “You are naïve to think that Douglas ever had any other plans that to completely take his brother out and control this stupid human world. He has played the part oh so well. And we do have to admit, it took longer than we expected.”

            He couldn't admit to what he had done. He wanted to. It had felt good to finally do something that he wanted to do. Damn the consequences that it had led to.

            “You don't have to worry about it, Chase. Your real father has already taken care of disposing everything. Your secret will be safe with us, as long as you join us.”  
            “I don't work for anyone.”

            “You will.” She had crept up behind him and whispered into his ear. Right after, her arm came around his neck and started to squeeze.

            Chase had been anticipating an attack of sorts but he had not figured her to be as strong as she was. He threw his body weight back with and landed on top of her and before he knew what happened, they were rolling around, mere inches from both falling off the cliff.

            She had rolled and flipped, bitten and scratched him and made her way onto the top of him, using all of her strength to subdue him beneath. Her glasses had fallen off in the struggle and as she looked into his eyes, he saw the flash of her trying to scan him. “We will make you ours, Chase.”

            “I don't think so.” It was her cockiness that had gotten her in trouble now and with one swift move of his hip, he leveraged her underneath him and used his forearm to crush against her throat, slowly pushing her body off the ledge. “I'm not afraid to die, Evalyn. I'm not sure about you, but if we both have to go off this cliff together, the consequences are worthless to me. So, it begs this question, if I killed yesterday, why wouldn't I kill you? That was supposed to be someone I cared about.”

            She laughed while she choked. “Do what you must, Chase, I just don't think you have it in you.”

            It took only mere seconds for him to scan the surroundings, calculate his chances and he was going to take them. All of his effort went forward and he threw them both off of the cliff, hopefully leading to a grave at the rocks and water below.


End file.
